


Out of Orbit

by snoozless



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 13:20:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozless/pseuds/snoozless
Summary: Akaashi was doomed to be trapped in Bokuto’s orbit. Stuck with a mark that didn’t match, Akaashi is left circling him alone, refusing to let go of the light he loved.All it took was one lone star to shift his course.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Out of Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> hank you so, so much to my lovely beta readers, @sugawaaras @nadisabug @nyg-writes-hq and @amjustagirl on tumblr (who wisely encouraged me to wait and I foolishly did not). I can’t thank you all enough!
> 
> This work will reference SH and scarring, so please do not interact if that would be triggering to you. 
> 
> Remember to take care of yourselves, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Tumblr @snoozless

The universe was capricious and cruel. Akaashi was certain as soon as he saw the red mark on his wrist. Soulmate marks were meant to be beautiful: the name of one’s destined lover scrawled neatly in black or white on one’s wrist as soon as they turned 18. 

Akaashi’s looked more like it had been scratched on- violent and angry and red against his pale flesh. He knew it was coming before it even appeared, and he knew it would end in heartbreak. Bokuto called him at exactly 12:01 on his birthday, his soulmate’s name inked onto his wrist beautifully and neatly and _perfectly_ \- exactly as it should be. He remembered the older boy frantically chittering on about when he would find her and where and how excited he was…

When Akaashi’s parents came upstairs to wish him a happy birthday they found him hunched over the sink, blood dripping down his wrist as he desperately tried to gauge the damned thing out. 

———————————

That’s how Akaashi found himself in the basement of his Tokyo University’s student life center. His parents insisted that he continue group therapy into college, especially since he had yet to receive the surgery needed to move on. Part of Akaashi still clung to the idea that the universe could be wrong, that through some twist of fate Bokuto would end up on his doorstep to proclaim that the universe had messed up and despite it all he believed _Akaashi Keiji_ was his real soulmate. 

A cruel twist of fate indeed. 

The room was small and dimly lit, with seven or so padded chairs arranged in a circle around a worn white carpet. Even in a university as large as theirs, soulmate glitches were extremely rare. Akaashi, punctual as ever, was the first one there. The moderator, a frail looking woman with gray hair, smiled warmly at him and motioned for him to sit. 

The other participants slowly began to trickle in: a girl with deep red dyed hair and a calculating gaze, an androgynous looking individual with piercings and a tired smile, a waifish looking boy with catlike eyes and the tips of his hair bleached… 

The chair dipped next to him as a girl sat down. Her tousled hair curled around her face and her gaze was intense. She pulled a notebook out of her backpack and began to mindlessly flip through it, seeming to take solace in the way the pages slid through her fingers. He took brief notice of the singular sticker on the cover: a little planet with a dopey smile. 

They began to introduce themselves and their relation (or lack thereof) with their soulmate. The red haired girl, Soma, got rejected by her soulmate because she didn’t believe in predestination. The pierced person, Teshiro, had a soulmate stuck in a coma for 4 weeks and counting. The dyed hair boy, Kenma, had a mark that didn’t match, but got the surgery as soon as he turned 18. He looked like he wanted to burn a hole in the wall and escape through it. 

When the girl next to him introduced herself, her voice was soft yet strong. “My name is (l/n) (Y/n). I woke up on my eighteenth birthday and the mark never came. I’ve never had one and I never will, but it’s not too bad. I can’t imagine the pain all of you are going through.” Usually that last sentence would sound disingenuous, but her words rang with a clear earnestness. The moderator nodded kindly and turned to him. “Akaashi?” 

Akaashi shuffled his feet together and played with his fingers. The girl turned her head and watched him intently. Her eyes were uncomfortably piercing, as if she was mentally opening him up and peering inside. 

“My name is Akaashi Keiji. My mark didn’t match my soulmate’s. I haven’t gotten the surgery. It’s nice to meet you all.” He cringed inwardly at how stiff he sounded. (Y/n) studied him for another second before returning her gaze to her hands. He pulled his sleeves over his wrists and tried to avoid her eyes. Something about her gaze made him feel uncomfortably exposed. When the meeting was over he, like most of the other participants, was quick to leave. (Y/n) lingered. 

———————————

He noticed her the next morning on the first day of his poetry class. Her hair was still messy and she had the same notebook in her hands, although this time she was writing in it. He glanced at the little stickers she had placed on the page corners as he moved to the back of the room. For once he wished that the lecture was larger than 10 people. He knew that (Y/n) noticed him, but she thankfully left him alone. Before the mark appeared, Akaashi loved to write poetry. He was never one to publicly express his emotions, and poems were an outlet for him to explore his own feelings and experiences. Since then, it had just become painful. Opening his heart would only exacerbate the wound. Professor Takeda’s cheerful voice shook Akaashi from his brooding as he wrote his name out on the chalkboard. Like clockwork, Akaashi turned his focus to the lecture, tuning out the thoughts buzzing in the back of his mind. 

(Y/n) seemed less focused. When he looked over at her, she was staring out the window. Her eyes were soft as her chin rested on her palm, a slight crease in her brow. Akaashi let himself study her for a minute. He briefly wondered what she was thinking about before returning his attention to the board. He could feel her gaze flit over to him when Takeda mentioned the unit on Shakespearean soulmate sonnets; His wrist burned even though she wasn’t looking at it. 

———————————

Teshiro’s soulmate finally passed away. _Finally_. As if it was something they were all just waiting to happen. The air was tense between them and the conversation was curt. (Y/n) tried to offer words of comfort, and while Teshiro thanked her graciously it was clear that none of them stuck. (Y/n)’s eyes searched the room, desperately grappling for some sign she was helping. It never came. When they all left for the evening Akaashi looked over his shoulder at (y/n) as she lingered. She cradled Teshiro to her chest, eyes distant as he sobbed into her sweater.

———————————

“Akaashi?”

He looked up and saw (Y/n) fidgeting lightly from one foot to the other. She seemed to be fighting the urge to sink into her sweater, a large turtleneck with little embroidered flowers. “Do you mind if I sit next to you for the lecture today?” Part of Akaashi felt irked at the intrusion, but a larger part of him felt relieved to have some company. He managed to nod stiffly as she slid into the seat beside him, taking out her notebook and opening to a fresh page. After rifling through her backpack she removed a small binder of stickers, flipping through the pages and pulling out a sheet with little cats on them. Noticing his gaze, (Y/n) turned to look at him before he could pretend to be disinterested. “Do you want a sticker?” 

Akaashi blinked owlishly at her. _Who brings stickers to a full blown college class?_

“Um, sure. Thanks.”

A genuine smile spread on her face as she handed him the binder to flip through. Immediately his eyes landed on a sheet of owl stickers. His breath hitched in his throat as he carefully removed the sheet. (Y/n) leaned over and grinned. 

“Oh, I love those little guys. Feel free to take whichever one you want.” 

Akaashi looked at one of them, a cute caricature of a big gray owl. The resemblance to Bokuto was uncanny. It even had his golden eyes. He tried to control his breathing as he removed the one next to it, a snowy white owl tucked in on itself, and stuck it to his plain black phone case. (Y/n) smiled to herself before peeling off a smaller brown one cocking its head and sticking it to the space next to Akaashi’s. 

“There, now he has a friend.” 

It looked like her. For some reason that made his chest feel a little less heavy. 

———————————

After that day, (Y/n) always sat next to him. Akaashi didn’t mind it too much, she was quiet and attentive, and liked to put random stickers in the margins of his notes when he wasn’t looking. She began asking if they could study together in the library. Akaashi didn’t have the heart to say no, not when she looked so hopeful. Maybe he was just too tired to try and shake her off. Despite never really asking, he found out a lot about her. Like how she wanted to be a writer, but got scared when she had to actually share her work. 

“Do you like to write, Akaashi-san?” She asked, eyes sparkling with interest. 

Akaashi took a long sip from the tea she’d brought him -something with a flavor halfway between floral and gingery- and nodded his head. “Yes, I’d like to be an editor one day.” 

(y/n)’s eyes lit up at his words, smile widening as she leaned forward. “When I release my first book you can be my editor!” 

Akaashi looked up at her, smiling lightly at the excitement etched onto her face. Bright, but not too bright. Bokuto briefly flashed through his mind, but Akaashi did his best to ignore him. “Of course, I’d be honored to.” 

(y/n) grinned wider, eyes twinkling as she returned to her paper. Her typing was sporadic and clacky, like hail pittering against the window. It persisted, no matter how much he turned up the music in his earbuds. Usually the noise would irk him, but he found himself enjoying the way its hum drowned out the rest of the world’s chatter. 

———————————

Dread began to pool in Akaashi’s stomach as he slid into his seat for Takeda’s lecture. Shakespearean Soulmate Sonnets. He could feel his hands shake as he removed his notebook and pens for note taking, a soft internal voice feeding him memories and false hopes. He felt the warmth of golden eyes and a calloused hand on his cheek. He felt the way his mouth sloppily slotted against his and how his heart felt so full it would explode-

(Y/n) slid into the seat next to him and handed him a tumbler with little Rilakumas on it. “I tried to recreate your usual order at the campus cafe,” she whispered, taking a sip from her own tumbler (covered in Pompompurins, her favorite). 

“Thank you, (l/n),” he murmured, taking a tentative sip. His lips quirked up. She even got the squeeze of honey and lemon that he liked. 

“Are you going to be OK today Akaashi?” 

Akaashi fidgeted with his fingers. “I have to be.” 

She gently took one of his hands in hers to still it. He reeled at the contact and how _comforting_ it was. 

_This is wrong this is wrong this is wrong this is wrong, you’re betraying him you’re betraying him you’re betraying him-_

He pulled his hand away, even as his heart ached at the loss of contact. 

(Y/n)’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Akaashi-san, I overstepped” He shook his head and offered her a tight smile. 

“It’s not you, I promise.” 

When Akaashi got back to his dorm that night, his chest was so empty it hurt. He slid down against the door and buried his face in his hands. _Why him?_

His phone dinged next to him. 

> _(Y/n) (l/n): I’m here if you need me_

His heart ached. He wanted to reach out, he really did, but something tethered him down. He scratched at the letters and scars on his wrist and tried to cry, but nothing came out. 

———————————

(Y/n) respected Akaashi’s wishes and left him alone for a week. He hadn’t realized the effect her warm tumblers of tea and little stickers had on him. She moved back to her old seat in Takeda’s class and spent more time with her nose in her notebook. He still felt her gaze flit to him throughout the lecture (as his did to her), but where it used to make him uncomfortable it now just vaguely ached. The one person he interacted with regularly anymore was his roommate, but they only ever exchanged pleasantries. Without something, or rather someone, to distract him, Bokuto started worming his way into places he didn’t belong. Akaashi felt his phantom touch ghost his face or graze up and down his back; he felt his gaze and heard his laugh and pictured what could be if the universe weren’t so _god awful_. The fantasies burned with a blinding intensity, but the loneliness that followed never failed to chill him to his core. 

He was relieved to see (Y/n) around campus with various other people, including Soma. She lingered at the edge of the group, but still smiled and still managed to make them laugh. Soma glared at anyone who looked at (Y/n) the wrong way. He didn’t expect to be on the receiving end of one of those looks. It wasn’t angry, just vaguely disappointed. Akaashi couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment. 

———————————

“And how have you been this week, Akaashi?” Akaashi looked up at the moderator, who was looking at him with a kind smile. Kenma looked over from his seat beside him, eyes shifting between him and (y/n). If he noticed anything was off, he was courteous enough not to mention it. (y/n) seemed to be getting close with Teshiro and Soma at least, offering them compliments and affirmations whenever they shared their experiences. Akaashi was used to giving lukewarm answers, but something inside of him felt like being honest today. Maybe it was the familiar feeling of her eyes settling on him. 

“I’m… lonely,” he began, looking down at his shoes. 

The moderator nodded, “and how is that affecting you?”

Akaashi looked up, briefly meeting (Y/n)’s eyes before looking away. “I see him a lot. My soulmate. He’s been invading my thoughts more than usual. It’s like I can feel his eyes on me all the time.” 

The moderator nodded and offered a sympathetic look. “Does anyone have any advice for Akaashi?” The room was quiet. Akaashi was beginning to regret being honest for once. 

“Don’t punish yourself for learning to feel OK without him,” (Y/n) spoke up, trying to meet his eyes. “Just because you don’t have him in the way you want to doesn’t mean you can’t be happy.”Akaashi nodded, meeting her gaze. There was no malice or disappointment in them, only empathy. 

While he was quick to follow Kenma out of the building, Akaashi found himself messaging her later that night when the sun set and his thoughts got darker. 

> _Me: Study in the library after class tomorrow?_

> _(Y/n) (l/n): only if I can sit next to you in Takeda’s class, my current seat gets the worst drafts._

> _Me: deal._

———————————

Akaashi was true to his word, meeting her at the library the next day with a bag of ‘I’m-sorry-for-pushing-you-away’ macaroons in hand. She accepted them with stars in her eyes (she had quite the sweet tooth, apparently) and gave him her Rilakkuma tumbler (she said it was practically his at this point) as they settled into their little table by the window.

“Soma and I are going to go check up on Teshiro tomorrow, do you want to add anything?” 

Akaashi looked over at (Y/n), who was already staring at him intently. 

“I think I’m good, but give them my best ok?”

She nodded, sighing and resting her hand on her palm. “I’m worried about them. They don’t respond to my messages anymore.” 

Akaashi felt his stomach sink, but he elected to ignore it. He didn’t have the energy to give it too much credence, not when her eyes still held that glint of hope. 

He should have listened to it, because he awoke to a barrage of missed calls from (y/n). He was confused until he opened the paper, the headline making his heart fall deep within his chest: 

_Tokyo University Student Overdoses in Dormitory._

———————————

Teshiro never came back to the group. The reason was never explicitly spoken but somehow everyone understood. (Y/n) seemed to already know why, staring at the floor with her mouth pulled taut. Akaashi used to think that her advice was a little annoying (too hopeful, too optimistic, too _naive_ ), but its absence made his heart feel heavy. He didn’t remember what they talked about (he often tuned it out), but he would never forget the way the air hung over them like a cloud of ash. Akaashi followed Kenma out, but not before looking over his shoulder. Soma closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around (Y/n) as she silently cried into her hands. Akaashi wanted to reach out, to embrace her, but he found himself slipping out the door. That didn’t stop his heart from lurching as he walked away. 

———————————

The funeral was held the next week. Soma and (Y/n) had tried to plan something, but were unable to track down any of Teshiro’s relatives willing to attend, or even give them funds for the burial. Teshiro didn’t specify anything about a will in their suicide note, so they used what was left of his savings to pay for the necessary services. Akaashi followed (Y/n) and Soma to the funeral home to tie up the rest of the loose ends. They seemed familiar with the process; (Y/n) mentioned that they had done it with Teshiro for their soulmate about a month prior. As Soma filled out the rest of the paperwork, (Y/n) sat with Akaashi on the stiff faux-leather couch and stared out the window. 

“I couldn’t save them,” she whispered, staring straight ahead with a blank expression. 

Akaashi looked at her for a moment before following her gaze outside. “They weren’t yours to save,” he murmured. It was a weak attempt at comfort, but she nodded and shifted her gaze to her shoes. She gently grazed her hand over his, barely making contact. 

“Can I?” she asked, voice fragile and tentative. Akaashi nodded, letting her place her hand over his. He made no move to intertwine their fingers, but his shoulders loosened at the softness and slight weight against his hand. He tried to ignore the golden eyes boring into him from every angle.

_‘Don’t punish yourself for learning to feel OK without him,’_

She traced little patterns on the back of his hand. The gentle sensation made him shiver. 

———————————

“You should reach out to Kenma,” (Y/n) told him, biting into a vegetable dumpling. She started huffing and fanning her mouth (it was too hot) and he shot her a pointed look in return. 

“You should blow on your dumplings before you scarf them down,” he quipped, smiling to himself as he passed her a cold glass of water. 

She rolled her eyes, drinking the water before settling her gaze back on him. “I’m serious though. You guys are in similar situations and I think he could help you with the paranoia you’ve been telling me about.”

Akaashi sighed, cursing himself for being honest, especially with her. She wasn’t the type to let things like this go, especially not when it had to do with someone she cared about.

She gave him a knowing look as she made a show of blowing on her dumpling before taking a bite. “You know I’m right, Akaashi. Even if you never talk about it, you could still end up being good friends. That’s what happened with me and Soma, and frankly with me and you.”  
He grinned, taking a sip of water. “And why in the world would I want to subject myself to another you?” 

(Y/n) looked at him with an incredulous look on her face, throwing her napkin at his face. “Akaashi! I have half a mind to walk out on you right now!” 

He laughed, (a beautiful, light, unburdened sound), and shook his head. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Plus if you leave now you’ll miss going to the new ice cream place down the road.”

She failed to hide the way her eyes lit up at the prospect of something sweet. “I’ll forgive you if you promise to meet up with him soon. Soma says he takes some pushing, but once you do he’s a loyal friend.” 

Akaashi smiled. His chest felt warm, but right as the ease began to set in, he felt the phantom tug on his heart. _Remember who you belong to_. (Y/n) cocked her head, suddenly looking worried again. 

“It’s happening again, isn’t it,” she murmured, reaching out to touch his hand before pulling back and twiddling with her fingers instead. Akaashi didn’t say anything, just started to stare off into space. He felt like he was floating again, off somewhere else. _Come back to me._

He vaguely heard her pay the bill before she tugged at his arm. “C’mon Akaashi, you owe me ice cream. Then I’ll take you home, OK?”

He looked at her eyes, swimming with concern and sympathy. They were soft and free of judgement. “Ok,” he whispered, letting himself follow their pull. 

They ended up smiling and laughing again once they got to the ice cream parlor. She made fun of him for liking caramel sauce and peanuts on his, calling him a glorified grandfather. He shot back, joking that eating mint chocolate chip was like eating toothpaste.

Still, the ease was built on an unstable foundation.

He still felt the heat of the golden eyes following his every move. 

She still knew that, despite her yearning, he was not hers to save.

———————————

Akaashi insisted on walking (Y/n) to her dorm. His mother’s voice rang in his head, reminding him to be a gentleman. He looked over at her as she finished off her ice cream, tossing the cup in the trash can in front of her building. She turned and looked up at Akaashi, smiling slightly. 

Akaashi didn’t like the feeling settling in his heart. 

“Thank you for this, Akaashi, it was nice to be able to spend time with you.” 

_Why is she making this sound like a date? This wasn’t a date. He didn’t date._

He just nodded curtly as a lump started to form in his throat. 

She took a step closer to him, eyes glinting with something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Can I try something?” 

He tried to suppress the fear growing in his heart, the way he wanted to gravitate to her and her big eyes. He had been in this situation before and it didn’t end well. 

Lidded golden eyes and calloused hands flashed through his mind. She brought hers to his face: they were soft and warm and small. This was wrong. 

Her eyes closed slightly. She lifted herself up on her toes. His eyes widened, but he remained rooted to the ground. She hesitated, face mere inches from his, studying his face for trepidation. He didn’t know why, maybe it was loneliness or frustration at the golden eyes that were _ruining everything_ but he closed the gap, meeting her lips as he cradled her face. 

It was soft. She was hesitant, inexperienced, but it was sweet. He found himself leaning in, letting himself get pulled into her, his heart leaping as she smiled into it- 

The phantom touch shot through his arms, forcefully pushing her away. _This is wrong._

_This is wrong this is wrong this is wrong this is wrong this is wrong this is wrong-_

She stumbled back and looked up at him in shock as he backed away. 

“We can’t do this,” he whispered. 

Hurt flashed through her eyes as she shrunk back slightly. His heart ached, but he felt a stronger pull elsewhere, to _him_ , even when he was worlds away. 

“Why?” she whispered, taking a small step forward, “Because you’re scared?” her voice raised slightly, but not in anger. Her eyes burned with the same determination he had grown to associate with her. 

“Just stop, stop trying to fix me and everyone around you. I never asked for your help, for your company, for any of it. Stop picking me apart and trying to put me back together as you think I should be,” he spat, surprised at the coldness of his tone. 

He could see heartbreak in her eyes, but she didn’t back down. She was perceptive enough to call his bluff. 

“Why did you kiss me then?” she spoke, voice wavering slightly despite her best efforts. 

He shook his head, taking a few more steps backwards. 

“I shouldn’t have. This isn’t how things work for us, (Y/n). This isn’t something you can try to tape up or cover with stupid little stickers,” 

Why was he saying this? He didn’t mean it, not at all. The ghost of his touch dug deeper into Akaashi’s arm, trying to tug him away. 

Her lip quivered, but she stood up straight and lifted her chin up high. 

“Not all of us want to keep wallowing alone forever, Akaashi.” 

She turned on her heel and walked into her dorm building, 

Akaashi squeezed his eyes shut. The golden orbs stared back at him. 

“Are you happy now?” he muttered, digging his nails into the name on his wrist. 

Akaashi trudged back to his dorm in silence. 

He didn’t get an answer.

———————————

They had to read poems they’d written for Takeda’s next class. Akaashi couldn’t find it in himself to be nervous, at least for his own presentation. He had long since purged the emotion from his writing, instead providing eloquent yet sterile descriptions of menial things he knew people would like. As long as the words he formed were pleasing to the ear and eye, he was doing his job. 

He read something short about the shrike who sometimes perched outside his window. The class had clapped and Takeda seemed pleased. For once, (Y/n)’s gaze never met his. She traced the little planet sticker on her notebook and let her leg bounce up and down. He felt the guilt from last night steep back in, heavy and suffocating. 

“Miss (l/n)? Would you like to go next?” Professor Takeda asked, smiling warmly (ignorantly) at her as she steeled herself. (y/n) walked to the front of the class and opened up her notebook. Despite the fear in her eyes and the slight shake in her frame, she held her head high. 

“This is the product of an exercise I did last night. It’s called Dreamscape.” Akaashi placed his chin on his palm, staring intently. _Last night._ He dreaded her words, but somehow he couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away. (Y/n) cleared her throat before standing up straight, something in her eyes glazed over as she placed a finger on the edge of the page. When she spoke, her voice held the same soft strength it did back in the first day of group therapy. 

“He’s beautiful, 

the way his hair twirls in the tide

like poppies in the breeze

A calloused hand traced against my jaw, 

A smile, releasing bubbles above our heads 

He pulls me against him, 

Through the water between us 

And it’s _warm_ ,”

Her voice was dripping with so much affection, so much _longing_. Akaashi felt his heartbeat quicken as dread pooled in his stomach. Her eyes remained fixed on the paper. 

“His lips on mine breathing air into my lungs and his 

Chest on mine, 

Beating its wings, 

_I think we’re flying,”_

Her cadence began to quicken and strain. Akaashi wanted the ground to swallow him whole. This was too familiar, _too close,_

_Bokuto Bokuto Bokuto_

“And I don’t know where my tears start and the water begins 

Because _God_ it’s warm and this is all I’ve ever wanted

And _God_ I never thought I would get it-”

Each time her voice wavered something in his heart cracked. _Why couldn’t it be her? Why did it have to be him?_

“I’m running out of air

But _God_ I don’t want to go, 

_Please don’t make me go,_

The water drains and his weight feels so much heavier, 

For a brief moment it’s almost tangible-”

She paused, taking a deep inhale and exhale. The whole room stared at her in silent expectation. Akaashi swallowed the lump in his throat as Bokuto tightened his grip on his thoughts. _Why why why why why?_ (Y/n)’s voice didn’t have strength in it anymore. It was cracked, broken, defeated… yet she continued on.

“I open my eyes and let my tears fall against the empty air 

God, why can’t you just give this dreamscape to me?

Why must you burden me with the weight of this heart?” 

She looked up from her paper and met his gaze. Akaashi couldn’t bear to maintain the contact. 

Takeda thanked her, making comments on how she could tighten up the wording but that he loved the emotion in her delivery. (Y/n) looked like she wanted to turn tail and run. She asked Takeda if she could leave, citing that she wasn’t feeling well. _A feeble alibi_. He let her go, thankfully not questioning it. Akaashi’s eyes followed her out the door as he blinked back tears he didn’t know were forming. 

———————————

When Akaashi found her, (Y/n) was curled up in a ball staring at her wall. Her dorm was a mess; her bed was unmade and random tea bags and wrappers were strewn everywhere. If he didn’t feel so guilty perhaps he would have been a little grossed out. She looked so small curled up there, so opposite of shining, strong, larger than life Bokuto. Frail, defeated, tired (Y/n). Robbed of a soulmate, chained to the harsh reality that she would never be truly fulfilled. His heart ached, weighing so heavy in his chest that he just wanted to sink down with her. Akaashi gently moved some of her plushies and sat at the edge of her bed. He knew she knew he was there, but she didn’t look up at him. If anything, she looked like she was trying to make herself smaller. 

“I’m sorry, (Y/n), I didn’t mean any of it.” he whispered, and he meant it. He heard her make a pained sound, but when he looked up there were no tears. 

“It’s not your fault, I know it isn’t, but _God_ , I’m just so angry.” (Y/n) choked out. “Isn’t that pathetic?” Her voice strained but continued getting louder, more desperate. Akaashi felt something deep within his heart crack. 

“The fact that I’m angry like this? I have everything I need, people are fucking _starving_ and _dying_ and _suffering_ and I’m over here cursing the universe for not bestowing me with a lover on a silver platter. Isn’t that pathetic?” She let out a bitter laugh before delivering a harsh succession of punches to her leg, her entire body thrashing with the force. The harsh sound of the contact made Akaashi flinch. 

“Aren’t I just fucking terrible? Depraved, self obsessed, fucking ungrateful weak spineless excuse of a human,” she spat, with a kind of vindictiveness he had never seen from her before. His hands began to run cold and shake. 

“I hate myself.” 

“ _I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself!!_ ” At this point, tears were falling from her eyes, and Akaashi felt his own throat tightening. He reached over and embraced her, letting her head dig into his shoulder as she repeated it like a mantra. 

Akaashi ran a large hand through her hair, leaning his head into hers. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, breath fanning on her head. (Y/n) clutched the fabric of his sweater and shook her head, digging it further into his shoulder. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “You should be angry at me, or the universe, anything, _everything_. But you’re kind, too kind, too compassionate and smart and radiant, despite all that has been taken from you.” He tried to steady his voice. “I wish it was you, (Y/n), I really, really do.” And he meant it, _God, he meant it more than anything_. Why hadn’t it been her? She went to say something before hitting her leg again, this time with less force. Akaashi gently took her fist in his hand and intertwined their fingers. 

“Why me? Why us?” she choked out. Her tears were finally falling freely.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, “the universe is just a cruel, capricious son of a bitch.” (Y/n) laughed bitterly before sobbing harder, burying herself against him. Akaashi soon found himself joining her, trailing tears and kisses along the top of her head. He felt the pierce of golden eyes with each touch, but at the moment he couldn’t find the energy to care. Snow fell outside of the dorm window. The ambient city noise rumbled and chittered along as it always did. The world continued its merciless march forward, but within those dorm walls, within each other’s arms, they let themselves surrender to the pull, if only for a night. 

———————————

Akaashi was holed up working on a Western Lit paper in his dorm when his phone began to buzz. He picked it up without looking, sipping his black coffee as he scanned over the words he had written thus far. “Hello?” 

“Akaashi!” 

Akaashi’s eyes widened as the phone fell from his hand, clattering against his dorm floor. His hands trembled as he clambered to pick it back up and press it to his ear.

“Bokuto-san? Is that you?” he asked, trying to hide the slight shaking in his voice. 

“The one and only!” Bokuto laughed from the other line. Akaashi could practically feel his grin through the screen. His wrist and heart began to burn. 

_Too bright, too soon-_

“What do you need?” Akaashi responded, tapping his shoe against the ground. His brain was going haywire, rejoicing at the sound of his voice and the confirmation that he c _ared enough to call_ , 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna propose to her!” 

There it was. 

Akaashi felt everything he had built come crashing down around him as he stared at the wall in shock. 

“Akaashi? You still there?” 

Akaashi shook his head, trying to ignore the tears welling in his eyes and the piercing sensation in his chest. “Yes, sorry, I spaced for a second. I’m very excited for you, Bokuto-san, I know you two will be very happy together.” 

Bokuto laughed, far too in love to look too far into Akaashi’s strange behavior. “Kuroo and I are going to go ring shopping when I’m done with national team training. I’m just gonna go for a promise ring for now, I know she wants to wait but I want her to know I’ll wait as long as I need to for her. Maybe I can propose when we go to the olympics! I’m so excited, Akaashi, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her. I know we’re young but I just can’t wait.” 

Akaashi’s tears fell freely as he struggled to keep his voice level. “You two were made for each other,” he murmured, “it’s only natural.” 

“Anyway, enough about me, how are you doing Akaashi?” Bokuto laughed. Akaashi couldn’t help but smile. _He cared_. The mere crumb was enough to keep him going. 

“Stressed with studies, but I’ll be fine,” Akaashi responded, reaching over to wipe the tears from his face. Bokuto hummed in understanding. 

“I wish you wouldn’t stress yourself out like this Akaashi.” 

Akaashi stilled, eyes widening slightly. 

“You’re always working so hard to be who you think you need to be. I want you to be happy, Akaashi”

He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his sob with his hand. 

Instead of meeting the golden eyes, he saw hers, wide and full of that foreign emotion, waiting patiently for him. 

_How could he think Bokuto would ever hate him?_

Akaashi smiled to himself. 

“I’ll try, Bokuto-san. Take care.” 

———————————

“You’re thinking about getting the surgery, aren’t you.” Akaashi looked up from his cup of tea to meet Kenma’s calculating gaze.

“How did you know?” Kenma shrugged, uncomfortably taking inventory of the cafe patrons. He hated having to meet in public, but Akaashi knew Kenma needed to get used to leaving his apartment for more than just class and meetings. 

“You’ve been rubbing your wrist. You do that when you’re nervous or thinking about something.” Akaashi smiled to himself, shaking his head. 

“As observant as ever, Kozume.” Kenma just grunted in response, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. Akaashi gently stroked his wrist with his thumb. “After, are you able to feel… anything?” 

Kenma studied him for a second as he took a bite of his apple fritter. “Yeah. Just not for them. I know that Hinata exists, and I have my memories of him, but he just feels like an NPC now. There isn’t pain when I think of him. There aren’t those fucking sparks when I’m near him. He just became… like everyone else. I was finally able to just be his friend and enjoy his happiness.” Akaashi blinked at Kenma. His wrist burned. He thought of (Y/n) and sighed to himself, dropping his wrist in favor of twiddling his fingers. 

“Do you ever regret it?” Akaashi whispered. 

Kenma’s gaze burned with an earnest intensity. “Never,” he responded. There was a sharp finality in his tone, one that told Akaashi Kenma wasn’t sugarcoating it (not that he was the type to). “I loved him enough to know I had to let him go.” 

Akaashi closed his eyes, letting pictures of a different life flash before his eyes.

He thought of morning tea in a shared apartment, curling up together just to read and enjoy one another’s company. He thought of enjoying the warmth of her hands and the soft stirring of his heart without feeling like he was betraying some cosmic order.

Akaashi’s heart clenched, as if trying to hold onto something, but he smiled against its tug. “Maybe I’ll just have to follow your lead then.” 

———————————

When he told (Y/n) he wanted to get the surgery, she immediately began to flounder. “Did I pressure you? God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, don’t do it because I was stupid-” her eyes were wide and she was fiddling with one of her necklaces. 

“(Y/n),” he cut her off , a gentle smile tugging at his lips “I’m doing it because I want to. You didn’t pressure me to do anything.”

(Y/n) studied him for a moment. “What made you decide then?” 

Akaashi thought of Bokuto’s call and his subsequent revelation, his meeting with Kenma, and the warmth of her touch. “I want to let myself feel without feeling like I’m betraying him.”

(Y/n) smiled, hesitantly placing her hand in his. He intertwined their fingers without a second thought. It just felt… right.

“That sounds like a good reason to me,” she murmured, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m proud of you, Akaashi.” He let his thumb stroke the back of her hand as they sat in comfortable silence for a minute. 

“Keiji,” he murmured looking down at her. (Y/n) met his gaze questioningly. His eyes met hers as his smile grew. “Call me Keiji.” She smiled back. His heart felt warm. The trepidation was still there, but so was the beginnings of something new.

———————————

Kenma drove them to Tokyo University hospital two months later. It was within walking distance, but Kenma said that he had felt woozy afterwards and (Y/n) put her foot down. She got out of the car first, thanking Kenma before stepping out and slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She insisted on staying for the duration of the surgery in case something went wrong. As Akaashi turned to thank Kenma, he found him staring at (Y/n) as she adjusted the straps of her bag. “She’s a big part of this, isn’t she,” Kenma murmured. Akaashi looked at her and smiled softly to himself. (Y/n) shot him an inquisitive glance through the windshield, cocking her head. 

He absentmindedly traced the little brown owl on his phone case. “Yeah, she is.” He grabbed his medical papers and moved to open the door. “Thank you for the ride, Kenma.” Kenma waved him off with his hand and offered a rare, genuine smile. “Have (Y/n) text me when you’re ready for me to pick you up.” 

———————————

“Are you scared?” (Y/n) asked, leaning against the hospital bed as they waited for the anesthesiologist to come back. Akaashi looked down at his wrist, letting his eyes trace over the curves of Bokuto’s name and the faded scars slashing through it. He swiped his thumb over it one last time before taking her hand and squeezing it. 

“A little bit. But in a weird way I’m… excited. I feel like this is a new start.” (Y/n) squeezed his hand back, holding it as the anesthesiologist returned and asked various questions about allergies and whether he had fasted as required. Her hand stayed firmly in his as they injected the first bit of anesthesia and his vision got hazy. She only let go when they began to wheel his bed off into the operating room, waving at him as his vision blurred. He closed his eyes and let himself think about his soulmate one last time. 

> _‘He’s like a star’, Akaashi had thought, eyes transfixed on number 12 as he delivered his spike. When he smiled, Akaashi felt like all the light in the world had splashed him right in the face. It was like looking at the sun itself, burning and beautiful and so, so bright. In that moment, Akaashi realized that he had never wanted something more in his entire life than to be able to bask in something so radiant. Maybe he would go to Fukurodani after all._

> _It was quiet as they got ready to lock up the club room. Winter was fading into spring, and the noise of the night was beginning to rumble once again. It reminded Akaashi of when he was little and he’d open his window to listen to the bugs sing. “Do you know how to kiss, Akaashi?” Akaashi whipped his head to look at Bokuto, who was cocking his head and boring into him with wide eyes. “W-What?” Akaashi sputtered, face heating up. “Why would you ask that, Bokuto-San?” He expected Bokuto to make a joke or brush it off, but his face was entirely serious. “Because I’ve never kissed anyone, and I want to be good at it for my soulmate. I’m not sure who it is, but I want to be my best for them.” Akaashi stared at him as he processed his words. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” he eventually responded, voice fragile and hesitant. His heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest and right into Bokuto’s awaiting hands. Bokuto rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Would you like to try? That way we both know what it’s like?” Akaashi choked on air, staring into Bokuto’s all too earnest gaze. He tried to get words out, to tell Bokuto that they_ couldn’t _, that he’d fall even further into something he already knew wasn’t going to be requited, but his mouth just hung agape. Bokuto moved a hand to Akaashi’s cheek, swiping his thumb gently. “Please? Just for practice?” Akaashi stared into Bokuto’s eyes, suddenly lidded and glowing like pools of pure starlight. “Yes’’ he whispered back as Bokuto leaned in and their lips met. It was messy and out of sync, but Akaashi felt like his whole body was on fire, so searing and intense and_ bright _that he swore if it lasted a second longer he would turn to ash. When Bokuto pulled away, Akaashi was too starstruck to notice the slight furrow in the older boy’s brow._

> _“Hey, Akaashi.” Akaashi looked up at Bokuto, who stood with his back to him as he looked up at the sky. “When I marry my soulmate, will you be my best man?” Akaashi swallowed, feeling his heart ache. “Of course, Bokuto-san, I’d be honored to.” Bokuto’s whole visage shone as he turned, smile burning at a billion watts. “And then I’ll be your best man when you marry your soulmate!” Akaashi smiled softly, but despite not yet having his mark, deep down he knew. Feeling more intensely for someone than he did for Bokuto would be impossible. He would burn from the inside out. Perhaps he already was. “Of course, Bokuto-san,” he murmured, voice shaking slightly at the end. Bokuto didn’t notice, too busy laughing happily at the moon._

The anesthesiologist counted down as he moved to put the mask over Akaashi’s mouth. His heart screamed, cursing him for his betrayal and begging him to rip the mask from his face and run right back into Bokuto’s arms. 

“Five,” _Would he ever feel anything again?_

“four,” _Would the universe forgive him?_

“three” _Would Bokuto forgive him if he knew?_

“two” ‘ _I want you to be happy, Akaashi’_

“One.”

Akaashi let a single tear fall down his face. He never could deny him. 

_Goodbye, Kotaro._

———————————

His head hurt. 

That was the first thing Akaashi noticed, that and the fact that his throat felt incredibly dry. It was already dark outside the hospital room window, despite the fact that they had arrived early in the morning. His wrist was bare, save for the familiar pink scars. He felt lighter, as if a weight had been extracted from his chest. Akaashi wondered if (Y/n) had stayed. He could already picture her curled up in a waiting room chair, Pompompurin blanket pulled tight around her body (she insisted on bringing it for comfort reasons). The thought made him smile slightly. A nurse came to check up on him, walking him through the outpatient procedures and asking if he had someone to take him home. “I do, (l/n) (Y/n). She should still be in the waiting room” The nurse smiled knowingly, “Ah, she must be the one who has been camping out all day. She must really care about you.” Akaashi smiled softly. He felt warm. “I’m lucky to have her,” he murmured. 

He didn’t notice that he hadn’t thought of Bokuto since waking up. 

They brought Akaashi out to the waiting room where (Y/n) lay fast asleep, just as he had pictured. Her face was squished against her folded jacket and she had drool on her chin. Akaashi thought she looked beautiful. He gently took (Y/n)’s hand and squeezed it. “(Y/n), wake up.” She murmured something incoherent, rubbing her eyes with her free hand before looking up at him. Her eyes shone as she offered a groggy smile. “Keiji,” she murmured fondly, “How do you feel?” 

Akaashi smiled, one of his rare ones that was slightly crooked at the edges. “Happy” he murmured, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a kiss on each knuckle. His heart felt light, unburdened, fluttered gently within his chest. “I feel really happy.”

———————————

Akaashi eventually came to two conclusions. Firstly, he was wrong in middle school: Bokuto was never a star. Bokuto was the sun; every piece of Akaashi was drawn to him, wanting to stay in his orbit forever even if it meant he would get burned to a crisp. No, _(Y/n)_ was a star. Akaashi knew his analogy was stupid, the sun _was_ a star, but it made sense in his head and being with her was never logical. His life did not revolve around (Y/n). She didn’t sear him or burn him or make him want to explode with the sheer passion of it all. Instead, they existed comfortably together in the periphery of space. She was his starlight, bright enough to lead him but not so bright so as to blind him. She didn’t take his mind captive, invading each thought and emotion; instead, she slipped her way inside and made herself at home amongst his other favorite things. 

He admired her over his mug of tea. She was flipping through the first draft of her book with her free hand, the other resting comfortably in his own. The sunlight filtered through the window, painting her features gold and making the loose strands of her bed head shine like a halo. He blushed at the purple marks peeking from the collar of her shirt, smiling proudly to himself. (He had some too, although he hadn’t noticed them yet). (Y/n) looked over at him, cheeks growing red under his loving stare. Akaashi didn’t break it, only smiling wider. His fingers lovingly traced the name freshly tattooed on her wrist, just as she often did with the letters on his own. She squeezed his hand and, despite all of their time together, Akaashi still found himself getting butterflies.

Therein lay the second conclusion. Akaashi once thought that the universe was capricious and cruel, and sometimes he found himself continuing to think so. How could he not when he had seen such suffering, when he thought back to the silence surrounding Teshiro’s death or the suffocating noise of (Y/n)’s sobs? 

No, Akaashi thought that deeming the universe cruel was giving its emotional intelligence too much credit. The universe, like many things, was unfeeling. It acted logically, unfeeling, simply getting from point A to point B without thinking much about it. Its goal was to survive, even though it didn’t have any particular reason to, and in doing so it dragged all life along with it. The people who were happy were those who realized that they were simply being swept along for the ride, learning to float instead of swimming upstream. The ones who were happy were those who, against all odds, built a space of their own. 

Akaashi smiled at her, bathed in the light of their shared apartment. She smiled back and intertwined their fingers, holding fast as they watched the world turn from their little corner of the universe. 

He thought the view was beautiful.


End file.
